Miriam stepped back into the bedroom. Mrs. Nash was still asleep--there was really nothing left for her to do but obey the sheriff. She turned to Martha, standing timidly half in and half out of the room. "Sit over in that chair," she directed softly, indicating the one she had occupied a moment before. "If Mrs. Nash grows restless in her sleep or wakens, come at once for me." "Yes, Ma'am--Miss." Martha found it difficult to decide on her mode of address so far as the nurse was concerned, and compromised the matter by jumbling the titles together. "Don't ye be afeared; I'll call ye." Sheriff Trenholm was standing in the center of Abbott's old bedroom staring at the windows, the curtains of which were drawn. He turned around at Miriam's entrance and, stepping behind her, closed the hall door. "I don't wish our talk to be interrupted," he said by way of explanation. "Now, Miss Ward, exactly what occurred here last night?" Miriam studied the man in front of her in silence. There was something big and fine about Guy Trenholm--an air of candor, of strength--that impressed her, but an inborn caution, a streak inherited from some dour Scottish ancestor, kept back the words on her tongue. Suppose the sheriff was setting a trap for her? "Will I be called as a witness at the inquest?" she asked. "Sure." "Then why question me now?" His smile was friendly as he pulled forward a chair and stood resting one hand on it. "The inquest may be delayed a few days," he explained. "There is a conflict of authority as to jurisdiction"--he paused, then added more briskly: "Is the furniture in this room placed as it was last night?" Miriam stared about her before answering. "It is just the same," she said. "And the windows?" "Two were open." She crossed the room and laid her hand on a tall mahogany screen. "I placed this here so that the air would not blow directly on Mr. Abbott and arranged the curtains at that window so as to protect him also." Trenholm walked by her and, raising the window nearest the four-post bedstead, looked outside. "It gives on the roof of the verandah," he said, drawing in his head. "An easy climb from the ground for an agile man. It is a reasonable hypothesis that the murderer gained entrance that way." "Wouldn't he have left tracks in the snow?" she broke in quickly. "He probably did, but there was a second fall of snow about five this morning which obliterated all marks." The sheriff closed the window. "This screen made an admirable hiding place, I have no doubt. He probably sprang from behind it and chloroformed you." Miriam shivered. "When I came to myself this morning I was lying just about here"--she pointed with her foot to a spot midway between the bed and the screen. "And you detected no sound--no odd noises when the murderer entered the room?" questioned Trenholm and his gaze never left her face.